


Take It Slow

by bakerst_sherlolly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-TFP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakerst_sherlolly/pseuds/bakerst_sherlolly
Summary: What I imagine could have happened right after they took Eurus back to Sherrinford





	

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of these wonderful characters. Words are my own.

The car ride on the way back to the city is the longest of his life. His mind, racing a thousand miles a minute, is simultaneously re-living the day's events and imagining worst case scenarios for the next hours. For what he is about to do is to go and plead with Molly to hear him out. To beg her forgiveness and ask she not banish him from her life forever. He cannot possibly ask her for her love, he's been reckless with it, that much he knows, and he doesn't deserve an ounce of it.

The car stops and he bounds out, taking quick and long strides to reach her door, stopping mid-stride at her doorbell. Fear takes over and a hundred different scenarios flash before his eyes. Molly never wanting to see him again. Molly slamming the door in his face. Molly cursing him. Molly leaving London. _No_. He made it this far, he will be brave and face her. Whatever the outcome, he owes her this explanation and so he rings the doorbell. Doesn't use the spare key or pick the lock because he figures he doesn't have that right anymore. Not that he ever did, picking her lock that is, but well...

He rings once. Twice. Thrice. No answer. His stomach drops. What if something happened? What if Molly is still in danger? His mind racing again, he does not hear her soft footsteps and the click of the lock.

He sees her and a wave of relief flashes over him. _Oh_ _stupid, it's 1 in_ _the_ _morning_.

"What do you want?" She's tired, dark circles under her red-rimmed eyes, face wan and pale. He wants to scoop her up and tell her everything will be alright but he can't. He's not...  
He takes a deep breath. Now or never.

"Molly. I'm really sorry for waking you but I had to come here right away after... erm, I need to explain everything. Please, I know I'm a bastard and don't deserve to be here or even deserve you as a friend or as... But please, if you can find it in yourself and your immeasurable goodness to give me an hour to explain everything, I would be even more indebted than I already am. If afterwards you want nothing to do with me, I will understand and I won't bother you ever again."

He supposes he's a pitiable sight. Wet clothes, tired face and sad eyes. Molly, kind as ever, opens her door wider and lets him in.

Pours herself and himself a cuppa, sits on the couch and waits for him to tell his story. He is not looking forward to reliving the day's events but the rush of adrenaline is still there and he has to do this now or he will lose her forever. That thought alone makes him open his mouth and begin his story. His tone softer and gentler than usual.

"I found out that I have a sister. Her name is Eurus. She's very smart and perceptive."

Molly smirks and raises an eyebrow. _Smarter_ _than_ _you_?

"Yes, definitely smarter than me. Or Mycroft for that matter. Anyways, she is not...well. And by not well, I mean she is in a maximum security facility called Sherrinford."

"Why?"

"Well, as it turns out she is a murderous psychopath who killed my best friend when she was 5 and set our ancestral family home on fire. She's been institutionalized and incarcerated ever since. Our uncle took care of it first, but then Mycroft took over when he was old enough. She was in solitary confinement and yet she managed to reprogram every single person who worked at Sherrinford to do her bidding. She has this magnetic quality about her." His eyes haunted, Molly sets her cup down, turns to face him cross-legged and takes his hands in hers, finding on her way small wood splinters, cuts and bruises. She looks down to observe them but doesn't say a word.

Sherlock mimics her position, faces her cross-legged, takes a steadying breath and continues.

"Mycroft didn't want her mind to perish so he would give her little puzzles to solve. Turns out these little puzzles were actually high-level cases for the government. Predicting terrorist threats and the like by spending ten minutes on twitter. Being as perceptive and clever as she is, she gathered even more information of course. She required Christmas presents as reward for solving the puzzles. One year it was a Stradivarius."

Molly smiles _. Ah so she plays too._

Sherlock returns the small smile and then his face clouds over.

"One year she asked for 5 minutes of unsupervised conversation with Moriarty."

Molly's face drops. A shiver runs down her spine. Her thumbs stop stroking Sherlock's palms. So he takes over, and gently rubs her knuckles.

"To this day we don't know what they talked about, but what we do know is that she has led us to this point. She... she doesn't understand emotions so she wanted to see how we would react to various situations. So, Sherrinford was the perfect opportunity for her to do that. She trapped us in there and made me, specifically solve certain puzzles in order people's lives."

He stops to gauge her reaction. Molly's face is unreadable at the moment, a combination of horror, sadness and fear displayed on her face, so he decides to keep going.

"First she made John shoot the Governor in order to save his wife, but he couldn't do it. So the governor shot himself and she killed the wife because we didn't follow her orders. Then, she made me find out which one of three brothers committed a crime. She dropped all three into the ocean. She wanted me to choose between shooting Mycroft and John but I couldn't. I couldn't do that. They are both family. Mycroft and I may not always see eye to eye but he is still my brother. And John, well, John is my moral compass, my chosen brother."

Sherlock grows very quiet, his eyes downcast, and is staring intently at his and Molly's joined hands.

"Before that though, Eurus wanted to get to my heart. So she took us to a room where there was a small coffin. Small and practical. Fit for... for you."

He looks up at her, his eyes pleading with her to understand. To let him finish the story.

"How did you know it was for me?"

"I deduced it."

Her lips lift in a sad lopsided smile. _Of_ _course_.

"Also because there was a name plate on the lid. But instead of a name. There... were three words."

Molly understands the reference and stills. She stares right at him, waits for him to continue.

"She had cameras in your house Molly. So she put you up on the screen and I could see you. She said that I had to make you say the words on the coffin otherwise your apartment will blow to bits. Given what I had just witnessed I believed her."

He looks defeated, tired, sad. Molly realizes she has never seen Sherlock look this raw in all the years she has known him.

The whole situation seems like an alternate reality or something out of a movie and yet it was real life. Their life. She finds her courage to speak.

"I understand you were trying to save my life. Thank you Sherlock. But before we go on, I need to know if she can still see us?"

"No, Mycroft disabled the cameras and I will go through your flat and find them. I promise. There were also never any bombs."

Molly visibly relaxes, but he still did not get to say what he really wanted. He has to get the words out, otherwise he would never have the courage to do it again. He starts stroking her knuckles again.

"Do you know why she made me do that Molly? Because she doesn't understand how emotions work, she wanted to see me go through a thousand complicated emotions and the only person who could elicit all those emotions is you."

"But how could she know? Other than her being your genius sister, I don't really understand..."

"Well she saw you when you came to pick me up in the ambulance, and before you showed up John said you're the only one who can see through my bullshit." He smiles. She gives a soft laugh.

"She dressed up and pretended to be John's therapist, not by watching through cameras or anything."

"Wow. She's something." _Creepy_.

"Yes, she is."

"Are you going to see her again?"

"I um don't know. They took her away and she's catatonic now. But I would like to."

"I understand. She's your sister."

"And these?" She strokes the scars on his palms.

"I destroyed the coffin with my bare hands after our conversation. I couldn't bear to see it."

Her eyes are shining. She squeezes his hands. He must tell her.

"Back to what I was saying, despite me, being an utter cock, and making you think you don't matter, you do Molly. Without realizing, I've always had feelings for you, I guess I just didn't know what to do with them. I've repressed emotion for so long, because my mind associated emotion with weakness, but it's not. I was able to outsmart Eurus because of them. I have to at least thank her for making me face something I've known for a long time but didn't acknowledge, stupidly thinking that if I ignore it, it will all go away and we would all be better for it."

"And what is that?"

"That I do actually love you Molly. For a split second I thought you wouldn't say it back and she'd blow you to bits and I would have to see that and live with it for the rest of my life. I hurt you so much and yes I am a bastard, complete and total prat, undeserving of your love, but also utterly selfish. I find that's the only thing I want. Life is short and transient, might as well live it with the person who makes your heart sing."

She's crying and chuckling at the same time, "Sherlock Holmes, the romantic."

He smiles. "If you insist." _For you, always._

"Sherlock, you know how I've felt about you for years. What you've gone through today is a traumatic incident, for which I want you to get therapy", she insists with a stern tone, immediately softening, "but whatever this is, we have to take it slow. You don't have the best track record and I just want to know that you truly want this, and it's not just something you're saying simply because you are on an adrenaline high."

"Molly, I promise you I will strive to be deserving of your love. I don't ever want to live a day thinking that I could lose you and you wouldn't know how much you're loved." A few traitor tears escape his eyes and he hangs his head in shame. He feels her hands on his cheeks, bringing his face up to meet hers. She lightly scratches the back of his head.

"I have loved you for many years without ever hoping a return of the sentiment. Just because I'm not jumping for joy doesn't mean I'm not happy, Sherlock. We went through a lot, we have to sort it out. That doesn't mean we won't, and if you mean everything you said, we'll be ok. I know it."

She gets up, threads her fingers through his.

"It's late. Let's go sleep. We can figure the rest out tomorrow."

He follows her. He supposes he can't quite feel at peace with everything that happened, but this was a good place to be. He loves Molly. Molly loves him. Together they would make it work somehow, of that he felt sure. With that final thought he takes Molly in his arms and for the first time in many nights, he actually sleeps.           


End file.
